


Women were made to bear

by LadyBinx



Category: Real Person Fiction
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-14
Updated: 2018-05-14
Packaged: 2019-05-07 00:48:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14659742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyBinx/pseuds/LadyBinx
Summary: You've won an Omaze raffle to tour The Globe theatre with Tom Hiddleston. When he learns your favourite play is the The Taming of the Shrew he encourages you to read a scene on stage.





	Women were made to bear

You had used all your leftover money to purchase raffle tickets through Omaze. Your friends had chipped in together for your birthday. That's that had been 6 months ago and then you received a call. Somehow, somewhere the gods had been smiling on you. Now, here you are. Standing on the stage at The Globe. Reciting Shakespeare. To Tom Hiddleston.

"Ehehe alright, alright. Again? And this time...” he reaches out and gently plucks the pages free of your hands, “look at me instead of down?”

You look at him and your mind goes blank. It is worse than before when you were just trying to remember _anything_ Shakespeare wrote. His look is focused on you, his smile is just for you. A deep breathe and a slight tremble...

"Fie, fie! Unknit that threatening unkind brow..." You begin, unsure until his smile, somehow, broadens even further. "And dart not scornful glances from those eyes, To wound thy lord, thy king, thy governor."

Each line giving confidence to the next. At the end he stands, claps and whistles. And you can't help but laugh at his reaction and thank him. "That was wonderful darling! Absolutely fantastic! Would you be open to just one suggestion though?" Still giggling you nod. Your brain refusing to do anything but yell, _I just recited Shakespeare on the globe stage! To Tom Hiddleston!_

"Fantastic! You did bloody great darling!" He his words quick and eager as he starts heading for the stage, "You were great but still a little nervous, you didn't move with the words and, for me, the meaning of the words can change with the way we move our bodies" "Okay." He's on stage with you now. Standing in front you almost vibrating with the excitement of performing Shakespeare. “Let's do one together” he quickly flips through the copy of The Taming of the Shrew you had brought with you, and hands you back the book before you can refuse.

Bowing before you and taking your hand he pressed it to his lips. “Good morrow, Kate; for that's your name, I hear.”

Feeling the blood rush to your cheeks you glance at the script you've read a thousand and heard recited a thousand more times.

“Well have you heard, but something hard of hearing: They call me Katharina that do talk of me.”

Your apprehension seems to give him, or his version of Petruchio at least, a sly smile.

“You lie, in faith; for you are call'd plain Kate, And bonny Kate and sometimes Kate the curst; But Kate, the prettiest Kate in Christendom Kate of Kate Hall, my super-dainty Kate, For dainties are all Kates, and therefore, Kate, Take this of me, Kate of my consolation; Hearing thy mildness praised in every town, Thy virtues spoke of, and thy beauty sounded, Yet not so deeply as to thee belongs,” Tom kneels in front of you as if proposing, “Myself am moved to woo thee for my wife.”

You can't help yourself and bark out a laugh. Using the incredulous feeling of the situation to fuel your Katherine you speak quickly. “Moved! in good time: let him that moved you hither Remove you hence: I knew you at the first You were a moveable.”

“Why, what's a moveable?” somehow he is full of naivety and innocence. His eyes wide as he looks into your face. You forget this is Tom Hiddleston. You forget you're at The Globe.

“A join'd-stool.” it's off-hand, a throwaway line written 400 years ago that you had never thought about before. You never about it, until you feel Tom pull you down to sit on his knee.

“Thou hast hit it: come, sit on me.” He smiles wide at your shock. It's a smug grin, the grin of Petruchio getting the upper hand. Your Katherine would not allow it.

“Asses are made to bear, and so are you.” Your line is delivered with as much annoyance as you can muster and finished off with a shove to his chest. You try to stand and put some space between you but Hiddleston doesn't let you go.

“ _Women_ are made to bear,” he states the fact simply. Refusing to look at him he leans closer to whisper in your ear, “so are you.”


End file.
